


Drown Me In Your Arms

by QueenOfRavens



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, De Sardet is Ace, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Healthy Relationships, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, also sailors, asexuals, because Vasco is a good human, respect, the sea and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRavens/pseuds/QueenOfRavens
Summary: March, 1746I remember.
Relationships: De Sardet/Vasco (GreedFall)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Drown Me In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is shorter than most things I write, but it was in my notebook and I thought it was cute so here it is.   
> Sorry not sorry about the influx of GreedFall fics I will go down with this ship. 
> 
> 1) not beta read we die like men  
> 2) female de Sardet, and also asexual de Sardet.   
> 3) this fic is second person because that's the only way that it really makes sense to write from De Sardet's POV for me
> 
> And as always, I don't own any of these characters, they're all property of Spiders.

You stand at the rail of the ship, eyes trained on the horizon as waves ripple and splash against the hull; half a melody made whole by the rush of the wind.

If there is one thing you’ve learned on this voyage it was the sailing ships are far louder than one came to expect. Much louder, certainly, than you had anticipated, given the constant rush of waves against the hull and the dull roar of the crosswind.

Footsteps creak behind you and you tilt my head, turning to look over your shoulder at the captain approaching you. You only know his presence because he doesn’t wish to startle you. Plenty of times you have had your eyes fixed somewhere else only to leap from your skin when you turn your head and he’s standing next to you.

“Lovely evening,” You say, turning your gaze back to the horizon.

He lets out a small chuckle and and you smile softly as his arms slid around your waist, his body warm behind you.

A feeling of belonging, of complete content-ness sweeps over you as it always does when he holds you. Despite your many fond years with Constantin, and the trust you’ve formed with him over the years, Vasco brings you a different sense of happiness; a far more fulfilled kind of happiness.

And as always, his arrival brings the smell of leather, gunpowder, and something sharply herbal.

His hands are clasped together, resting gently across your stomach and his chin rests on your shoulder.

Something about the gentleness of his hold is strangely intimate.

“Indeed,” he purrs, responding to a comment you’d half forgotten about, “Though I find it a bit chilly.”

Without looking, you know that a smirk is curling the corner of his lips. And you also know that, while it is slightly chilly in the wind, what he means is _My bed is far warmer, darling._

“Are you tempting me, Vasco?”

There are only fellow Nauts on deck; the rest of the constabulary has long since made to bed, and so he doesn’t shush your words.

“Perhaps.”

You lean your head against his and huff a quiet laugh, “I find myself rather slowly agreeing to this proposal, Captain.”

Vasco chuckles, hands falling from your waist as he straightens up.

He strides off across the deck, knowing that you will not be far behind him.

And indeed, moments later, you turn on your heels and follow his steps, leading you down into the bowels of the ship and then up a narrow ladder that deposits you in an equally narrow corridor.

You push open the wooden door and step into the cabin.

Though not as large or lavish as you had originally expected, Vasco’s quarters provide enough space for a large navigation desk, a table, and a full sized bed and you've come to learn that it is large enough to be quite comfortable.

It spans the rear of the ship, the rounded windows fracturing the moonlight across the floorboards.

You close the door quietly behind you and breathe in the not-silence. Boards creak gently and you can still hear the gentle slap of the waves against the hull.

“You made it safely?” Vasco asks.

Undetected, he means.

You nod your head, absently beginning to unbuckle your many layers.

To the chagrin of your fellow congregates, and Constantin’s childish glee, you have begun to adopt some of the Naut’s fashions in dressing.

Though it has nothing to do with the utility of their trousers when in the rigging, as your fellows may think, and everything to do with the fact that you often have trouble finding your clothing once Vasco’s spirited it off somewhere.

You’d protested at first, this little game of his, embarrassed, but the more time you’ve spent with him, the more you realized that he simply finds you beautiful. And that he’s a cheeky bastard.

Besides with, your clothing always manages to reappear in your chambers by midday, neatly folded.

Vasco’s perched on the edge of the bed, legs stretched out in front of him as he watches you peel off layer after layer.

Though he’s stripped everything except his large white shirt, it does an excellent job of hiding anything above mid-thigh and you smile a little.

He rises from the bed, stepping towards you and pulling the tunic off over your head and leaving you in your undershirt. You left him sweep you up into his arms and learn into his warm embrace as he carries you across the room and deposites you in the bed, flipping the covers back and sliding in beside you.

When you first boarded the ship, you’d watched him in his element, thriving on the chaos and the bond all the Nauts seemed to share. And though his voice had always been firm, it had always carried a hint of laughter of concern in it.

He cared, deeply. There was no doubt about that.

You smile and scoot closer, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you against his chest.

Chestnut hair splays against his chest and you curl up against him, his hands laced just below your ribs.

There is nothing sexual between the two of you; never has been. That sort of bedsport never appealed to you.

And so as you curl up against him, basking in the warm glow of his presence, you know that he respects that in you.

His hand moves to stroke gently through you hair, occasionally caressing your face and you entwine your fingers with his other hand.

“Goodnight, darling,” he murmurs against your hair, and you can feel his voice vibrate deep in his chest.

You smile against his shirt and close your eyes, “Goodnight, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated🥰


End file.
